How to completely and utterly wreck a demon's life
by De'Wiccana
Summary: Sebastian Michaelis is a demon. Being a demon, especially one contracted eternally to Ciel Phantomhive, one would think that nothing could faze him. After everything he's gone through, what could surprise him? Presumably nothing. That was before two young children appeared, and now he's stuck with them for who knows how long. Oh, goodness. How on earth will they survive?
1. Arrival of the little ones

**Disclaimer: I do not own Black Butler. But you probably already knew that. **_  
_

_Burning. Everything's burning. They've already burned. Burned in this strange, living fire. The flames have spread across half my body, and are still moving. I am flinging myself between the worlds, the blue portal stream rushing past me. I look down at the bundle I clutch to my chest. Rebecca. Her name is Rebecca. She squirms as the flames near her. They lick her skin and disappear, extinguished. I smile, then wince at the pain this action brings. She is new. She is strong, the strongest. She'll survive this. But I need a place for her. Pain rips through me, and I know I've reached my limit. I fling myself through the nearest opening and gasp as I hit the cobblestones. I roll over quickly and leap to my feet, checking on my precious cargo. She is unharmed, and I quickly look around, what is this world's story? It appears to be Victorian England, London, I believe. I take in the tightly packed buildings, the filthy streets and the chattering of a busy city. Who can I trust? Not a human, they won't be able to deal with her. A reaper? No, they're workaholics, and some of them are quite insane. Who? What? And I scream silently as the truth hits me like a ton of bricks. A hysterical gasp bubbles from my ravaged throat. A demon. God forgive me, my child will be left with a demon. But no time to dwell on that now. I look around again, and my heart leaps as I find one not too far from here. I run. Faster and faster. The flames whipping out behind I am here. I look up. Not bad, at least for this time period. The building is straight and well-maintained, clean too. But then again, everything is new after that fire. Five or six years ago? More? Less? I don't know. My head tilts back as I remember this particular Demon's story. Sebastian. Sebastian Michaelis. Oh. He's interesting. I look down at Rebecca. At my baby. I'm sorry, precious one, but you won't survive as you are now. I grab the remainders of my power and force her to accelerate. Her back arches as she grows, becoming taller, leaner, less babyish. When I am done she is about three, years, not hours, as she was before. I choke back a sob. My baby, left here. But I have no choice. Reapers aren't the best with children, some of them are downright dangerous, and a human cannot deal with her, even if I do bind her powers. She blinks sleepily as I grab her head and force all the information that she'll need to know to survive here into her mind. Then I kiss her forehead and then do the last thing necessary, the thing that will assure her safety. I pull out a bowl, a pen, and a piece of paper. I scribble a hurried note and then shove into her hands. She looks down at it, and then up at me,_

"_Mama?" She whispers and, choking back a sob I take the pen and drag it across my wrist, blood fountains and I freeze it. I take it and whisper, change the blood, take my emotions, my desperation, my love. Change the blood. Finally I reach down and, with a whispered apology, prick Rebecca's finger. She cries out and my heart breaks, but I take the blood and put a drop into the bowl. Now she will be cared for, now she will be... _

_I am interrupted by a small whimper, emanating not from Rebecca, but from another source. I turn, and I see a young girl, no more than two, curled up in a box that is nestled against the side of the building across from where Rebecca will live. Her clothes are stained and ripped, her hair matted and dirty. She is thin, too thin, and even the house that she lies near appears to be in a state of disrepair. She looks at me fearfully, and my heart breaks all over again. Still I hesitate, the attachment may have a negative effect on her. She whimpers again, and I make my choice. In an instant I scoop her up, pricking her finger as I did Rebecca's and setting her down near my daughter. She begins to cry and Rebecca blinks a few times before toddling over to her and plopping down. I double over as the fire lances through my chest, but add the other child's blood to the mixture. I bend down and grab her blue-black-haired head. She squirms but I take the necessary information and add it, rewriting some of my blood's molecular coding to fit her in. I look at the child again, no immediate negative effects. But the world is starting to spin. I grab both of them and run up the stairs to the door leading inside. Once there I sprint until we stand in front of his flat. I kiss Rebecca's forehead again, and then I turn, and then I run. Finally, standing outside, I hear the clip-clop of horse hooves, and feel a fresh breeze cut through the fire. I smile, and look up at the cloudy sky. She'll be safe, even if he is a demon. Tears drip down my face as I collapse to my knees, sobbing and laughing all at the same time. Then I feel nothing as I let go and allow the fires to complete their deadly aim. Farewell little love. _

**Sebastian's POV**

I hear a knock on the door as I begin to prepare my evening tea. Technically I don't eat or drink, at least not the same things humans do. But I find it useful for if anyone drops by as it can be a bit annoying to have to explain why you have no tea at teatime. Especially in England. But no matter. I sigh and move away from the kettle, turning and walking towards the door. I do hope that it's not those bothersome boys again; though I do believe that I frightened them sufficiently last time they got it in their heads to irritate me. Perhaps a different group. I slowly open the door and peer outside. Odd. No one is there. Perhaps they've gotten faster at running away... Then I hear a soft sound and look down. My eyes widen and I take a step back, surprised. Two children, one appears to be about three and the other two, stand there, blinking up at me. I stick my head out and look around, but no one appears to be with them. I look down again and sigh before stepping into the hallway. I kneel bend down and fix the older one with a look that has made grown men cry and say,

"Can I help you, miss?"

She looks at me balefully for a few seconds, and then sticks out her hand. I look down and raise one eyebrow. A note. I've heard of women leaving their children on a wealthy strangers doorstep before, but this? I take the note carefully and read it,

"_Dear Sebastian Michaelis, demon_," So she, or he, or it, knows my true nature. I look back at the two children. Upon closer inspection they neither look or smell like siblings, but appear human. I look back down at the note,

"_Drink the blood. Now. I know this is probably confusing but my daughter's name is Rebecca. She's the one with the brown hair. I do not know whom the blue-haired one is though, that's for you to find out. I would recommend you care for them. Unfortunately you are a demon, but, well, that can't be helped and you are a better caretaker for them than humans or Reapers, though not by much. Do attempt not to corrupt them overly much and if you can, find the blue-haired one's relations, I'm sure they are missing her. _

_ Sincerely,_

_The second-to-last-of-my-kind-so-take-care-of-them-you-idiot" _

_P.S. Harming/killing them is severely discouraged, for your sake as well as theirs. _

Very strange. Obviously a madwoman wrote this note. A very well informed madwoman, but insane nevertheless. Me, care for children? I smile slightly, and feel the tiniest smidgen of satisfaction when the children shiver. I straighten up and look down at them again. The unknown one sits down and stares at her lap, but the other one, Rebecca, simply looks at me sadly. I shake my head and turn to re-enter my apartment, but before I can my muscles freeze. I try to move but instead of obeying my commands my body turns around to face the children again. Rebecca looks at me, and then at the bowl she clutches, it seems to be filled with a strange blue liquid. I imagine that this is the blood. I have no time to ponder this as my hand begins to reach out of its own accord. I struggle and strain, but to no avail. I curse under my breath as my mouth pries itself open and the blood pours into my mouth and down my throat and into my unnecessary stomach. Only then do I regain control of my body and I stumble backwards for a few steps before regaining my balance. I straighten again and look at the little ones. Huh, odd. I watch them for a few more seconds, then smirk and toss the bowl back to Rebecca,

"A pretty trick, little one."

I turn around and walk inside, slamming the door behind me. I stalk back to the kitchen smugly walking near the picture of a cat that I hung up to make the place more hospitable. The picture is leaning slightly to the right so I pause to straighten it, when I try to move again I feel the slightest pressure on my wrist, but I choose to ignore it. After taking another step I realize that I have left my arms behind. My eyes widen at this odd occurrence and I am forced to stop walking because I would prefer to have control of all my limbs at all times. I tug my arm towards me experimentally; it moves forwards about a foot before it stops and I hear a loud thud coming from the door. I take a step back, and hear something slide to the floor. Then I hear a soft sob, and someone else whisper quietly. I test my arms and find that they can move freely again. This is very odd. I turn around and walk slowly towards the door, reaching out slowly to grasp the door handle and retract the latch. I carefully open the door and look outside, then down. The same two faces look back at me. The younger one has tears sliding down her face, and presently the older one wraps her arms around her and glares up at me. She opens her mouth and spits out one word,

"Meanie."

The way she says it I would take it that this is the worst insult she knows.

"What happened?" I inquire.

She glares at me again, her own eyes starting to tear up,

"You left. Then you made those chains whack us into the door!"

Her vocabulary is much advanced for her age, though she stumbles over the words like a novice to talking. What chains?"

"I see no chains."

She rolls her eyes at my statement, then stomps her foot, still not letting go of her younger companion,

"Of course you can! You're just pretending 'cause you're a meanie!"

What does she mean? Is this child insane? Bewitched? I sigh and growl,

"Where are the chains?"

She looks up at me, puzzled,

"Right there. Right on your wrists," She holds up her right wrist and the other one's right wrist,

"Right here too."

What? I peer intently at both of my wrists, and at theirs as well. Just as I thought, nothi... then something. I notice something out of the corner of my eye, but when I turn to look at it, it disappears. I turn back to Rebecca, and there it is again. I purposely avoid looking at it directly, and eventually I manipulate myself until I can see the thing well enough to know what it is. It appears to be a link, no, a chain of links. I take a few steps backwards, and start as the chains shift and stretch. Still looking out of the corner of my eye, I follow the chain down one direction, and discover its end point on the little one's wrist. I follow the chain the other way and find it attached to a manacle clamped around my right wrist. I swallow nervously as I maneuver my other wrist to where I could see it. Yes. Another one, a quick glance allows me to see that it ends at Rebecca. What is this? My eyes flick up from my hands and I look into Rebecca's eyes, trying to discern the difference between hers and mine. Nothing about her appears special, but she must to be of the same species as whoever wrote the note. And created these chains,

"What did your mother do to me?"

I assume that the note-writer was her mother. Who else would go to this much trouble? She shrugs, and my inhuman patience snaps. I reach forward and grab her arm. She starts backwards but I retain my grip, leaning forward until my face is close to hers,

"What. Did. She. Do?"

She whimpers and shrugs again,

"Don't know. Don't know!"

I sigh, and release her arm. She stumbles backwards and the younger one starts to wail. After a few seconds Rebecca's bottom lip begins to quiver as well. Irritating. I sigh and drop my head before stepping forward and scooping them up. The little one stops wailing and wraps her arms around my neck. Rebecca begins to struggle, but stops when I glare at her, and goes still. She whimpers again and I bite back a groan, irritating child. But still,

"I won't harm you. But you have to come with me, seeing as we appear to be bound together. Hmm?"

I turn to look at her as I say this, the movement required making the younger one squeak as she is forced to shift her arms. She watches me for a few seconds before nodding slowly and wrapping her arms around my neck as well. I stifle another groan. I can't wait to get this broken; I don't prefer to spend time around the young of any species, especially humans. And apparently whatever Rebecca is. With a slight shake of my head I turn around and walk into my apartment, kicking the door closed behind me.

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	2. What on earth is going on?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Black Butler**

My apartment isn't that large, seeing as my needs do not include massive living quarters, and I wonder briefly where to put them before deciding to set them down on the couch. I run into an obstacle there. Rebecca lets go and consents to be lowered to the seat, but the other one clings steadfastly to my neck, refusing to be put down. Eventually I unhook her and toss her down before collapsing into a chair across from them. I tilt my head and study them. The little one buries her head in Rebecca's neck, but the girl stares back at me. We stay like this for a time, then the little one lifts her head and looks at me hesitantly. I lean forward and open my mouth,

"Who are you?"

She cocks her head and thinks about it. Then her eyes widen and she smiles,

"Izzie!"

Izzie?

"Is Izzie your name?"

She giggles slightly and claps her hand,

"Izzie!"

I turn to Rebecca, who looks at Izzie and nods sagely before turning to look at me,

"Izzie," she says in a sage-like tone that makes that name seem almost reasonable. I sigh and turn to Izzie again,

"Are you Isabelle? Isabella?"

Her little brow furrows as she thinks about it, then her face brightens and she says,

"Izzie!"

I groan and drop my head into my hands, this is getting nowhere. Then I look up again and ask Izzie,

"Where did you come from?"

She thinks about it, a puzzled expression on her face before answering me,

"Blue!"

I massage my temples and wonder. If I killed them I would rid me of these annoying children?

"What do you mean blue?"

Her face falls a bit as she remembers something,

"Momma and Dada not here anymore. Cousin here. Across the blue."

Her words are confusing, but I find the meaning behind her childish wording quickly,

"Your parents died and you have family here?

She cocks her head slightly before nodding slowly. Hmmm. Perhaps if I could find this relative...

"So you came across the blue?" She smiles in response to my inquiry,

"Blue! Lots and lots of blue!"

Lots and lots of blue? That could be,

"The ocean? Did you come across the ocean on a ship?"

She beams at me,

"Ship! Ship! And blue was like this!" With that she begins rocking back and forth, I assume copying the sensation of a ship rocking. Then I turn to Rebecca,

"How did you get here?"

She shakes her head and shrugs her shoulders,

"Blue. But not..." She rocks back and forth a few times before stopping and shaking her head.

"Not the ocean?" She shakes her head,

"Blue like this." With that she begins snaking her hand through the air. What?

"A river?"

She shakes her head, no. Her face crumples,

"Can't remember. Blue all around."

Tears run down her face as her shoulders begin to shake. No, no, this won't do,

"Don't cry little one. Blue, hmmm? That's all right. You can remember later."

She sniffles but scrubs her eyes with the back of her hand and stops crying, her eyes red and puffy. Bothersome child. Now what about those chains?

"Rebecca. The chains. What do you know about the chains?"

She shrugs,

"They're there. On you, on me, on Izzie. Who are you?"

I start at the question. So many possibilities. I discard anything to do with my, er, true nature, and decide to simply tell them the name that my young master Phantomhive gave me,

"My name is Sebastian Michaelis."

She blinks a few times, then a smile flits across her face, softening her features,

"Nice to meet you Sebastian Michaelis."

She seems happy, peaceful now. Odd, her moods change so quickly. Then beside her Izzie whimpers slightly, and Rebecca turns. I look at Izzie and she whimpers again, then looks up,

"Hungwy! Hungwy!"

My eyes widen in surprise as a strange feeling rises within me, focused in the area where my stomach is. It is like my need for souls, but...different. She's hungry? A horrible thought strikes me, the note, what if?

"Rebecca, give me your hand."

She walks carefully over to me and holds out her hand. Her eyes are confused, but unafraid. I reach out a grab her hand, pulling her towards me. I quickly pinch the inside of her wrist, she shrieks slightly and pulls away. Her hand falls to her side and she looks at me accusingly. Unfortunately for her I am much more interested in the sharp pain on the inside of my wrist. In the same place I pinched her. Then the sensation in my stomach becomes much sharper, and I sigh softly. These two might just be as much work as my young master. Well, at least they aren't overly demanding, or demons. But still, at least with Ciel I never feel what he is feeling. What a miserable existence that would be. This could be most troublesome, whoever the woman was, she knew how to make sure I'd take care of the little ones. I put this out of my mind for the time being as I feel a slight pressure on my lower leg causes me to look up in time to see Rebecca kick my leg again. When she sees my eyes on her she stops and glares at me,

"Meanie. Izzie's hungry."

I glare back at her and she pales nicely,

"I know. I don't have any food so you'll have to be patient."

Hmmm. I can't leave because I'd have to take them with me, though perhaps that could... no. Young children do not make good companions when forced to walk for any amount of time on a shopping trip. I obviously can't just leave them behind, and I can't refrain from feeding them. One last option... I walk over to the phone and dial a number. Ah, these telephones, wonderful devices, especially when one cannot leave a certain place. I've used this gentleman's service many a time. It's so bothersome to go and get food when all you use it for is show. But I am glad that I am prepared for this eventuality. Though, if I had not been, what kind of butler would I be? I chuckle slightly at that, I am still in service to my young master Ciel, and therefore still his butler, but he has decided that he would best be able to explore his new skills if I was not in the immediate area. Something about not always taking the easy way out, though I am still required to come to his assistance whenever he orders. Whatever it is I am most glad, for it may allow me to make separate contracts if I receive express permission, though I have not asked him yet. I am quite ravenous, it is very annoying. I have not seen him since the his marriage to the Lady Elizabeth a few weeks ago, and I am quite happy with the reprieve. So far he has kept up the facade of being human quite well. He has even simulated the natural aging process of a human in the four years he has been a demon, though he has made a few entertaining mistakes, such as the overnight three-inch growth spurt. Finally, someone picks the phone up and I bring it to my ear, on the other end a voice says,

"Hello? James's Market."

Ah, good,

"Yes. This is Sebastian Michaelis."

"Mr. Michaelis! Of course, what can I get for you today."

I sigh, I'm not entirely sure what young children eat, but I suppose that both of them are old enough for solid food,

"The usual Mr. Arrano. Please deliver it post-haste."

"Yes sir! Now I have a few orders in front of yours..."

Greedy fool, but I suppose it can't be helped. Luckily money is not in short supply as I have taken a few odd jobs in order to earn enough for this flat and the things necessary to keep up my human facade,

"Ten pounds extra for prompt delivery."

He laughs, the sound distorted by a sudden rush of static on the telephone,

"Hungry fellow aren't you? I'll have it up right away Mr. Michaelis."

"My thanks," I say before slamming down the telephone. Then I turn and walk back to where the children before sitting back down, leaning forward, clasping my hands in front of me and studying them. They are sitting on the couch again, Izzie leans against Rebecca, and has her little arms wrapped around the girls neck. Rebecca appears unruffled, but after a few seconds she yawns and rubs her eyes with the hand not wrapped around Izzie. All in all, a rather adorable scene, but of course such things hold no interest for me. Children. Ugh, I only deal with humans in general for their souls, but it appears that I will have to care for these little ones for nothing. Unfortunately, as I the note said, I cannot harm them, abandon them, and I imagine that neglect will not improve my plight, a point driven home by another sharp pain in my stomach.

I look more closely at the girls. Rebecca, despite the fact that her mother abandoned her here, appears well cared for. Her brown hair is clean and untangled, which is impressive given that it falls halfway down her back. Her clothing is similarly clean and fits her, a simple brown dress that falls to just below her knees, appropriate for her age. She is slender, but not overly thin and appears quite healthy. Izzie is quite different, it appears that she has not been cared at all. I believe she may be the girl I've seen in that box across the street. One child or another has occupied that box for the past few years, though I imagine that there have been children there before I moved in three years ago, but I don't think that she has been here more than a few months. Hmm, I suppose that Rebecca's mother fancied herself a good samaritan, or she was just confused and crazy. Izzie's blue-black hair is dirty and matted, falling to her waist. She herself is also quite filthy, she'll need to be bathed later. That shouldn't be too hard. I am a demon after all. If I can deal with Ciel and his picky habits, I can deal with these two children. I turn my attention back to Izzie, and I sigh slightly. She is thin, much thinner than she should be at her age. Most likely she has not eaten well for a very long time. Perhaps ever. A troubling thought if I am going to be the one to care for her. Her plain white dress is far too large, stained and hangs off her thin frame pathetically. I may have to get a few more supplies for the both of them.

A knock on the door interrupts my inspection. Both girls look up, Izzie expectantly, Rebecca in surprise. I get up and begin moving to the door, but am forced to stop suddenly halfway there. I sigh, exasperated, and turn around. The girls are now sprawled on the floor, the hands that the manacles are attached to outstretched in front of them. Rebecca struggles to her feet and picks Izzie up. The younger girl clings to her, but begins to walk when Rebecca does. I measure the distance quickly, ten feet. We can move ten feet from each other. This will be troublesome.

They move towards me and stop a few feet away. Rebecca stays there, but Izzie lunges forwards and latches onto my leg. What? I close my eyes and purse my lips as more knocking resounds through the flat,

"Anyone there?"

"Yes. Please, wait just a minute sir."

I gesture to the Rebecca, and she follows me down the hall. Izzie simply wraps her legs around my lower leg and refuses to let go. I shake my head but allow her to hang on. We move towards the door much more slowly than I am used to, but I suppose it can't be helped. I reach to open the door, then stop and look down, considering what to do with the little ones. I deliberate for a moment before ushering Rebecca to the side and handing her Izzie, who protests being torn off my leg quite a bit, but stops when I glare at her. Then I compose myself and open the door. I am immediately greeted by the delivery man falling backwards into my apartment, making all sorts of noises as he plummets to my floor. He picks himself back up with a low groan and then sees me standing there. He grins sheepishly and says,

"Er, delivery for Mr. Michaelis?"

I roll my eyes and sigh,

"Yes yes Ian, just leave it there as usual and put it on my bill."

I begin to usher him out the door but am waylaid by Izzie jumping out and latching onto my leg again. For a moment everything freezes, then Rebecca darts out from behind the door and removes Izzie from my leg. They both stand there, watching us impassively, Rebecca even goes so far as to lean against the brown hall of my apartment and look bored. I step back and massage my temples gently, this will be irritating. My prediction almost immediately begins to come true as the delivery man begins to stammer and stutter before finally producing a coherent sentence,

"Mr. Michaelis, you have children!?"

He gulps and takes a hesitant step back as I glare at him menacingly. Killing him would be a solution, but dumping the body would require me to take the children along as well. Of course I could just frighten him into silence, but humans are so unreliable..

"Actually, these are my sister's children. I am to care for them until her return. Unfortunately she did not give me anytime to prepare so I was forced to call your employer for supplies."

He gapes at Izzie and Rebecca for a few moments more, and I begin to think that perhaps the dump would not be as unpleasant as I had originally thought. Well, it may scar the children mentally, but that- no it might affect me as well. Then he laughs. I look up, surprised and annoyed,

"Excuse me?" He shakes his head,

"Sorry sir, it's just..." I stifle a growl. I have no time for this,

"It's just what?" He looks at me again, differently this time. Appraisingly,

"You have no children?" "Yes." "Any experience with children?" "I'm a quick study." He laughs again, but quickly stops when my eyes narrow. He smirks and says,

"Well if you need advice, I've got six of my own..."

I incline my head and smirk at him,

"Very kind, but I am sure that we will be quite alright."

Then I grab him by the arm and all but throw him out of my apartment,

"Good day Ian." With that I grab the food and walk back inside. Behind me I hear him chuckle slightly and murmur,

"Poor fool has no idea what he's getting into."

Maybe the mental scarring would be worth it. Hmmm.

**Thanks for reading! Please review! **


	3. Picky eaters: There is no escape

Bristling with indignation, I walk to the kitchen; Izzie and Rebecca following close behind me. Arrogant fool. Had he been dealing with one of my kind with less perfect self-control... well, suffice to say it would be an agonizing death. My foot hits something wet and I curse quietly.

"Bloody tea."

I sigh and shake my head, setting down the package. Then behind me Rebecca says,

"Bloody tea?"

I freeze before slowly turning around. Rebecca's head is cocked quizzically to the side, her arm around Izzie. She turns her head to look into Izzie's eyes,

"Bloody tea?"

Izzie nods and then smiles,

"Bwoody tea! Bwoody tea!" What? They're repeating me? Rebecca giggles and then joins in, the words increasing in volume with every repetition. By the time they begin yelling I have what I believe humans call a headache.

"Yes, yes, bloody tea. Please stop that infernal racket children." To my relief, Rebecca responds, her mouth snapping shut with an audible clack. She then elbows Izzie sharply in the ribs, quieting her. The subsequent pain in my side, though slight, is still bothersome. I shake my head and rub my side as the pain fades before saying to Rebecca,

"I would recommend that you not do that again little one."

She gulps and nods slowly. Well, at least she listens to me.

I lean down and scoop them both up before walking over to the table and setting them down. Then I pick up the package and rip it open, taking out the food contained within and setting it on the counter. I put the meat in the oven, make a nice summer salad, and pour both of them a glass of milk. I believe that children of their age tend to do better when given milk as opposed to tea,. I wonder, if one of them were to fall ill, would I as well? I shake my head at this disturbing thought; I will have to keep them away from any possible sources of contagion until I know this. The thought of falling ill due to some human disease such as cholera or tuberculosis is not a pleasant one, especially if I experience all of the symptoms until they recover.

Across the table Rebecca sips her drink carefully, as if testing it, before gulping it down in a few swallows. Izzie reaches for it carefully, but her hands do not reach around the glass and she tips it over. I briefly consider grabbing it before it falls, but I decide against it as I do not wish to alert to the fact that I am not exactly human. The white liquid splashes from the overturned glass and onto to the tablecloth. The one that I just cleaned. Huh, irritating. I push back my chair, stand up, and walk slowly over to Izzie. Rebecca too leaps from her chair and walks over. She studies the spill for a second, watching the liquid creep ever closer to Izzie. Then Rebecca grabs Izzie's chairback and, with a grunt of effort, hauls it back a few inches before stopping. She stomps her foot and grabs the chair again, but before she can move it I grab the top of the chair and, leaning over, move it back two feet. Izzie peeks up at me from beneath tear-filled eyes and whispers softly,

"Sowwy."

I shake my head and rip the tablecloth off the table, silently hoping that this child is not chronically clumsy. I have to deal with clumsy females at the Phantomhive estate, but I do not wish to be bothered by another Mey-Rin here. Huh. Perhaps this is simply a fluke. I most certainly hope so.

The scent of the meat is beginning to waft around the room, so I throw the tablecloth into a corner, move Izzie's chair back into place, and walk over to the stove. I cut the meat, put it on two plates and set it in front of the girls.

With that done I clean up, moving at human speed, so as not to frighten the girls or alert them to my true nature. Still I finish about seven times quicker than any of the Phantomhive servants would have. Honestly, if it weren't for their fighting skills I would never have hired them. A quick glance over my shoulder tells me that Rebecca is eating her meat and salad neatly, but Izzie simply stares at it, uncomprehending. With a sigh I walk over and kneel down beside her,

"Izzie, why aren't you eating your food?"

She shakes her head and looks at me,

"Don't like it."

I grit my teeth and sigh, then attempt to sound reasonable,

"You've never tried it."

She shakes her head again,

"Don't want it."

As if to ridicule her words a stabbing pain rips through my stomach,

"You're hungry. This is food. Eat."

She crosses her arms and shakes her head yet again, tears beginning to squeeze out from under her eyelids. Oh please not again,

"Don't cry little one. Why don't you want the food?"

I could probably force-feed her, but the bruising and the crying and the gagging are things that I am not currently willing to deal with.

"Can't eat it."

I drop my head so that she can't see my eyes flash red,

"Why not?"

"I can't."

I raise my head back up and glare at her,

"And what exactly can you eat?"

She shrugs and shakes her head. I stand and nod, fine then. Looking at Rebecca I ask,

"Why can't she eat it?" Rebecca looks up from her half-empty plate and shrugs,

"Don't know."

Ah, yes, she's three. I'm asking a three year old for advice. As my stomach cramps painfully yet again and Izzie whimpers, I briefly review my options. I could force her to eat it, but that would not end well. I could attempt to persuade her, but given her complete lack of logic that would most likely end badly as well. The final option is to sacrifice my dignity and call the deliveryman again in order to ask him for his advice on children. I turn and tower over Izzie,

"Little one. You will eat this, now."

She shakes her head stubbornly,

"No!"

"Yes, you must."

"NO!"

"YE-"

Then I realize that I'm arguing with a two-year old. It's been less than two hours since these two have arrived and I'm arguing with a two year old. An irritating two year old. I lean down until I am staring into Izzie's eyes, and open my to say something before I am distracted by the expression on Izzie's face. It is almost an exact replica of the expression that Ciel has worn so many times in the past. Raw obstinacy and determination.

"Izzie, Rebecca's eating it. See?" I say, pointing to the girl in question, who has all but finished her food,

"Don't care! Won't eat it!"

"Why?"

"Won't! Won't won't won't won't won't!"

I gape at Izzie and try to form a coherent sentence as she continues to repeat that word over and over again. She starts kicking, screaming, and she goes red in the face. Across the table Rebecca looks up and glares at me, setting down her fork and crossing her arms.

"Meanie." I glare at her. What am I supposed to do? What does she expect me to do? I turn to Izzie,

"Fine. Don't eat it little one."

She stops yelling and looks at me, I smirk slightly, finally. Then her face crumples as tear begin to slide down her face,

"Hungwy! Hungwy!"

I throw my hands up into the air,

"Well, then, what do you want?!"

"Hungwy!"

Truthfully, I believe that this child is more irritating than my Lord Phantomhive.


	4. Children or dignity

**Disclaimer: I don't own Black Butler**

As I stare incredulously at Izzie, who's tear-stained face is turned up towards mine, I wonder how humans survive their childhoods. There is no way that humans possess the necessary patience and self-restraint to not kill these creatures, no way at all. She sniffles slightly and scrubs her dripping face with the back of her hand, still looking at me. Her arms drop to her sides and she draws her knees up to her chest, burying her face into her knees,

"Hungwy." This child's obstinance and persnicketiness makes me feel a deep emotion that goes beyond anger. It is remarkably similar to what I have experience while attempting to comprehend how on earth Finnigan has managed to destroy the gardens so completely. The boy is beyond irritating. When I think of all the times I have been forced to create a completely new garden... as I said, beyond irritating. With a shake of my head I dispel these memories and return my attention to the problem at hand.

The girl in question is poking her food with one grubby finger, her knees still clutched to her chest. I sigh and curse as I arrive at my final option,

"Hello! James's market. James speaking, who is this?" I take a deep breath and say,

"Hello Mr. Arrano. It's me, Sebastian Michaelis again. May I speak to Ian?"

The loud chortle from the other end startles and annoys me,

"Ah yes, he told us all about your _little_ problem."

I bite back a growl and a retort and force a small chuckle,

"I imagine he did. May I speak to him?"

Another laugh and I hear James yell to someone, presumably Ian. A few seconds later the phone switches hands and Ian says,

"Mr. Michaelis? Decided to take up on my offer? Very good!"

A deep, completely unnecessary, breath, and then I growl,

"Yes well the younger one won't eat and both need-" He cuts me off with a short barking laugh,

"Well of course she won't eat! I could have told you that from what you ordered! I'll make up some supplies, though I do have quite a few deliveries to make and I will have to draw upon my personal stores for some of it..."

Humans and their obsession with money. It never changes. Of course it does make them easy to bribe,

"How much?"

"Lets say... 15 pounds." A ridiculous, exorbitant amount. To a human. To a desperate demon, nothing,

"Fine. Just get it up here."

I slam the phone down and curse as it snaps in half. Then I curse again as Rebecca, followed by Izzie, tentatively repeats my words. Words that would make any polite person turn white and faint dead away. I unclench my teeth; will my face into a stern, yet not homicidal, mask, and turn to face them,

"Don't say that. Ever." Rebecca stops talking and pouts at me,

"Why?"

I exhale quickly out of my nose and close my eyes,

"Because it is an impolite word not fit for anyone but the ruffians of society."

She cocks her head to the side, and turns to Izzie, who is still repeating my curse. Over and over and over. And over. Izzie notices Rebecca's eyes on her and quiets down. Then Rebecca turns back to me,

"But you said it."

I'm a demon. But of course I can't tell her that. She probably doesn't even know what a demon is. I sigh; pinch the bridge of my nose and think of how to explain this. Most I throw aside because they involve her death or harm, a logical argument, which of course won't work on her, or screaming accompanied with profanity. Humans are a profane species. I finally settle on one thing that I believe will either work or will not make this situation worse,

"Yes I know that. But you can't. Do you understand?"

She nods gravely, then smiles and says the other curse.

"You can't say that either." Her eyes narrow as she glares at me, but she nods just the same. Thank goodness.

"But why can you say them then?"

"Because I am an adult."

"Why?"

"..."

I simply shake my head and walk back into the kitchen, making sure that I do not move so fast as to tip them over. Odds are it would not only cause us harm, but would also provoke a storm of tears. The girls follow me quietly, thankfully silent. I turn two chairs around and set Izzie and Rebecca into them. With that I turn to Izzie and ask,

"Now, do you remember anything about that cousin you told me about earlier?"

I am hoping that not only will this question give me an answer to who I may contact who knows this little mite, but that it will also take her mind off this constant hunger pangs which are now beginning to irritate me very much. Izzie smiles brightly and claps her hands,

"Cousin! Cousin here!"

I nod slowly and try again,

"Yes Izzie. I know that. But where is this cousin of yours? Is he in England or in Europe?"

I imagine that, judging from her accent, she came from America. But where she was heading I cannot be sure. It is completely possible that she meant to board a ship to England, but she could have also just climbed aboard a random ship and sailed over without really knowing where she was going,

"Cousin's here! Cousin's ship!"

Ah, now we are getting somewhere. Her cousin most likely either works at or owns a trading company, though I believe that the former is more likely than the latter as a major owner would have sent out a missing persons request.

"You came here aboard a ship associated with your cousin. What company?"

A dreamy look passes over her face,

"Soft."

What?

"What do you mean soft?"

She giggles slightly,

"All softy-wofty."

Perhaps some sort of fabric? The Americas are known specifically for their production of cotton, though their production has decreased since the Civil war.

"Izzie, was it a cotton ship?"

"Soft."

"I understand that it was soft. But was it smooth? Was it easily moldable? Was it...fluffy?"

She smiles and hugs herself as another hunger pang makes me wince,

"Fuzzy-wuzzy. All fuzzy-wuzzy. And sweet! Yum!" Well, this is going nowhere. Apparently she is now having hallucinations caused by hunger. And her description of the cargo is not entirely helpful, though it is useful to know that her relative works at a cargo company. I will see if I can find anything using that... wait. How am I supposed to find this relative, or do practically anything, if I am tethered to these creatures? I stare at my wrists, where the occasional glimmer of an iron manacle frustrates me, mocking my irritation at being so restricted. But no matter. For now I will concentrate on getting these creatures food so that those accursed hunger pains will stop.

"Hungwy."

I rub my temples lightly, here we go again,

"I know, I know. Food is on the way. Do attempt to distract yourself until then."

Izzie's head tilts slightly to the side and her brow furrows as she attempts to discern my meaning. Whether or not she succeeds is a mystery to me, but she nods carefully and folds her hands neatly in her lap. I sigh softly in relief and stand up, preparing to perhaps do some small distracting chores in the kitchen until Ian arrived. Then I am sidetracked by the very, well, peculiar smell that has just begun to emanate from Izzie. Rebecca wrinkles her nose, hops off her chair and moves as far away as the chains allow her before saying to me,

"Izzie smells bad. Really bad. Ew."

I tentatively pick Izzie up and look her over, holding her at arms length to avoid the worst of the smell. Then I notice the dark stain that is quickly spreading over the back of her dress. Oh goodness.

**Thank you for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated! **


	5. Diapers, food, and choo choo trains

**Disclaimer: Honestly, if I owned Black Butler, do you I would be writing this? Well, maybe but, still… I do not own Black Butler. **

Ten hellish minutes later I am staring down at the half-clothed child lying on my lap. Securely fastened around her bottom are the remains of what was once a very fine jacket. Somewhere in this room are the tattered fragments of her old clothing, which promptly fell apart when I attempted remove her sodden dress. With a sigh I carefully grip her under her arms and lift her up. Izzie squirms slightly, unhappy at being held so far off the ground with so little supporting her as I carry her to the small closet in my room. Those few steps seem to take an eternity, I am forced to wait as Rebecca gets from her perch at the foot of the bed and walks over to me. But once there I shift Izzie to the crook of my elbow and reach inside the closet, fishing around for a second before pulling out an immaculate white shirt. I stifle a sigh as I look for a place to put Izzie down. My bed is out of the question, as I foolishly attempted to change Izzie there. The sheets, and possibly the entire mattress will have to be removed and, if I have my way, burned to ashes. And even then the smell... the smell will never fade.

Finally, I simply set her down on the ground, holding her up with one hand. With my other I carefully unbutton my shirt and pull it over her head. I release her and she plops to the ground, staring at my hands as I do up the buttons, my many years of practice serving my young master serving me well. Though he does not squirm nearly as much. When I am finished I pull her carefully to her feet and inspect her. Not up to my usual standards, but acceptable for now.

Izzie looks down at her new apparel; she takes her hands and smoothes down the front of her shirt carefully, her eyes wondering.

"Pretty."

I nod slightly,

"Hmm, yes, I suppose."

I turn and pick up Izzie's discarded clothing, holding it as far away from my nose as possible. It is stained, ripped, and generally over-worn, but the fabric is surprisingly fine, and I imagine that before long periods of wear and tear wore it down, it was once a fine piece of clothing. Hmm, most certainly a landowner, possibly even a plantation owner. Those tobacco farmers tend to become surprisingly rich. Then a rather painful sensation in my stomach reminds of our current needs. Where is Ian? Irritating, late, human. When he arrives... Fortunately, at that moment, the sound of knocking begins to resound through the apartment. Finally. I scoop up the two girls, ignoring Rebecca's squeal of surprise and move out of the room. I check myself in the hallway, slowing my pace down to one that would not overly alarm a human. I walk until I am standing in front of the door before depositing the girls onto the ground. The resounding shock travels from my feet up my spine and I cringe. Izzie whimpers and Rebecca pouts up at me, I ignore them, and instead reach out and turn the handle, retracting the latch and slowly opening the door. Ian, holding a large package, grins up at me,

"Hello sir!"

He steps presumptively inside my flat and my vision flashes red for a moment before I remember that I desperately need him. I take a few steps back and allow him to come further into the hallway. He stops and looks around, smiling,

"Nice place you've got. What did you say you did for a living?" I force a mildly pleasant expression onto my face and answer him,

"I am a butler."

He laughs slightly, then looks down and laughs again. I follow his eyes and see Izzie. She doesn't look too amusing, simply standing there. But who knows, perhaps this human's mind has cracked for some strange reason? He shakes his head and turns to me,

"Somebody had an accident?"

"Hmm."

He gives me a quizzical look and asks,

"Is she potty-trained?" Potty-trained? Hmm, that would make life much easier. Perhaps that incident was just a fluke.

"She is two."

To my despair, he shakes his head,

"No then. So your sister left you with kids this young and you have no childcare experience? None at all?" I nod slightly,

"You are correct sir."

The look he gives me says that he does not think much of my fictional sister,

"How long are they going to be with you then, sir?"

How long? How on earth and I supposed to know that?

"Until she comes to retrieve them."

He gapes at me, then composes himself with a shake of his head,

"Um, okay. What about the other one? Is she potty-trained?"

"I do not know."

His eyebrows climb high and he nods slowly before turning to Rebecca,

"Are you potty-trained...err, what's her name?"

I sigh and grit my teeth, this is taking far longer than I had hoped. Why can't he just give me what he's come here with and leave?

"Rebecca, her name is Rebecca."

A smile flashes across his face,

"Rebecca, we were considering naming our last one that. Or our next one."

I make a vaguely affirmative sound and he continues,

"So Rebecca, are you potty-trained?"

Rebecca looks up at him and, to my horror repeats my earlier curse. Ian's eyes widen and he looks, first at her, then at me, with an incredulous expression on his face. Rebecca, undeterred, continues on,

"Why is he allowed to say that and I'm not?"

He laughs nervously and then bends down so that he is at her level,

"Well Rebecca. That's a grown-up word and it's very bad for little girls like you, okay?" She nods jerkily,

"Okay."

Why does she listen to him and not me? He smiles and pats her head,

"Okay, so are you potty-trained?"

She cocks her head to the side and shrugs. He tries again,

"Do you have to go to the bathroom Rebecca?"

After considering it for a moment, she slowly shakes her head. Ian smiles,

"Good, that's good."

He straightens up and turns to me,

"I've got your package, if we could go to the kitchen..."

I am not sure why he needs to go to the kitchen, but at this point in time I am quite desperate to get Izzie to eat something and so I give him my permission. He gestures for me to go first and I walk slowly down the hallway, Izzie and Rebecca keeping up surprisingly well. Once there he sets and rather large box down on the counter before ripping it open. He takes a variety of jars and foodstuffs out of it. Inside the jars is some disgusting mushy substance that he pours into a bowl and sticks a spoon into. He takes a bit of what I believe is chicken and cooks it very quickly in a frying pan,

"I've tried giving her meat, she won't take it."

He looks at me condescendingly,

"She'll it this, you probably gave something that was too hard to get into her mouth. Let me guess, Rebecca ate this and she didn't?"

I nod slightly and he smiles,

"That's normal, you'd be surprised at the developmental differences that one year can make at this age."

Then he laughs as if remembering something entertaining,

"Of course, they're in their terrible twos. Which, despite the names, tend to continue into the third year."

Terrible twos? He looks at me expectantly, obviously waiting for me to inquire about these terrible twos. I decline to do so, whatever they are; they can't be so terrible as to require me to sacrifice my pride any more than it has already been sacrificed. After a few moments he gives up and returns to the food. The chicken he minces and places on a plate, along with some corn and mashed potatoes.

I am quite surprised that the little ones have managed to stay quiet this long, though Izzie's hunger pains are coming much more frequently. A quick check tells me that Izzie is standing at rapt attention, her eyes following Ian's every move. Rebecca is sitting tiredly on the floor rubbing her eyes and pouting. I look out a window and realize that the sun is beginning to droop beneath the horizon, and I am struck by a terrifying thought, what if their exhaustion affects me as well? But within a few seconds I realize that if that were true, I would be doing the same as Rebecca. Well at least I am spared that. Reapers must sleep, but demons don't have to, though we do enjoy it as a treat every once in awhile. "Done."

I look up at Ian's announcement, and see that he has set the plate and the bowl onto the table, along with milk in a curious sealed cup, not a bottle, but certainly not a normal cup. He notices my inquisitive look and says,

"It's a sippy cup, they don't spill as much with this."

Makes sense I suppose. At this point in time I am willing to try anything. Ian walks over and picks up Izzie, I scoop Rebecca up from her resting place on the floor, ignoring her groan of protest and walk with him over to the table. He sets Izzie into the chair and gestures me forwards. I set Rebecca down and she collapses, leaning against the table leg. He picks up the spoon and hands it to me. I dip it into the mush and bring it to Izzie's lips. The first few bites she takes most willingly, but then she bites down on the spoon and refuses to let go. I pull slightly, but stop when my own gums begin to ache. They are surprisingly tender as well, hmm. Ian chuckles slightly and, in the corner of my vision, I can see Ian shaking his head,

"You've got a biter. She might be teething, her molars are probably still coming in."

Teething? Well, that certainly explains the tenderness of my gums. Then almost to drive his point home, Izzie begins chewing on the spoon, sparking first pain then relief. Odd.

"She doesn't seem to feel it much, which is probably why you haven't noticed that something is wrong. With mine... you knew when they were teething."

He watches me for a few more seconds before sighing slightly,

"Pretend to be a train."

"What?"

"A train. Pretend to be a train. Say choo choo."

Choo choo? Does he believe that I am that gullible? Honestly, I do believe that he takes some sort of sick pleasure from this. Ian rolls his eyes,

"It will make her open her mouth so you can remove the spoon."

I consider it for a few seconds and then say, questioningly,

"Choo choo?" To my surprise Izzie breaks into a wide smile and her jaw drops quickly. Ian laughs, a most irritating sound. I believe that I would prefer to listen to the Undertaker reading a joke book then this. Quickly I spoon the rest of the stuff into her mouth before moving onto the chicken and vegetables. She eats all of these with alacrity, and, fortunately, I am not required to do that humiliating train thing. When done she collapses back into the chair sleepily, a blissful expression on her face. I straighten up and look at Ian,

"Many thanks." He smiles and holds out his hand, ah, yes. I reach inside my jacket and retrieve the money before handing it to him. Then I pick up both Izzie and Rebecca, and motion with my head towards the hallway. We walk to the door; he opens it and steps halfway through, then stops and turns back to me,

"Oh, and, there are diapers in the box. If you need any more help, you can always call me. But I would recommend finding a nurse or someone maternal to assist you."

I smirk and say,

"Thank you for your advice. But my sister will come for them before long, so such measures will not be necessary."

He gives me a pitying look before stepping outside, obviously not believing my statement,

"Farewell Ian."

"Goodbye Mr. Michaelis. Good luck."

With that he leaves, hurrying down the steps and outside. Good riddance. I look down at the now-sleeping girls and smirk. Now that I have the basic skills, I will be perfectly fine. How could these little things break me after everything I've been through?

**Poor, poor disillusioned Sebastian. Thanks for reading! Please review! Next chapter: Meet the Phantomhives! The poor saps don't know what's coming for them. **


	6. Meet the Phantomhives

**Disclaimer: Black Butler is not mine. Not mine at all. Read my lips, ok, words. I do not own Black Butler.**

It takes three days. Three days for them to completely and utterly ruin my life. I raise my head from my hands and survey the living room from my position sitting on the floor. Fortunately both of the little terrors are currently asleep, no doubt they have exhausted themselves breaking and ripping and staining everything in my apartment. Honestly, how can two little children be the cause of so much damage?

I sigh as I survey the room. Most every piece of furniture and quite a bit of floor bears interestingly scented stains, along with most every piece of my clothing. The chairs are all knocked over, and the couch cushions bear are deeply furrowed from more than one incident when I reached for one of them instead of a child. Bits and pieces of ruined fabric are heaped awkwardly around the room, and I have still not found a good place to change Izzie. Or a good way. And the diapers ran out yesterday. I did briefly consider requesting more from Ian, but one visit from that arrogant man was too much, and I would not summon him again for anything. But, in the meantime I am forced to make do with rags and my own unfortunate jackets. Even those will soon run out, the one I am wearing is the last clean one, my pants are wrinkled, and I have no shirt due to the fact that they require them as clothing and keep soiling them somehow. And heaven forbid that I be able to tidy up or do laundry or go look at the kittens in the pet shop window (I would so love to purchase one, or two, or maybe seven. But no, my master would not approve at all) for if I move more than ten feet from them they are dragged behind me and begin complaining. They are frightfully easy to injure, which would be a good thing, but unfortunately even the mildest bumps register with me, making disciplining them impossible. A good glare will halt them, but that always brings about a flood of tears and sniffling. Rebecca fortunately did turn out to be potty-trained, a mixed blessing, as I am forced to stand outside the door and keep hold of Izzie for an interminably long time while she goes, and then more likely than not she's managed to dip her clothes in the water and must be changed.

Thankfully they sleep quite a bit, and I am allowed a few moments of rest. I stand up slowly, making sure not to jostle the girls, curled up in little bundles of cushions and blankets, they look quite peaceful and I desperately hope they stay that way. Maybe if I pick them up carefully I can clean with my feet and carry them around... no sooner has this thought entered my head than Rebecca whimpers and opens her eyes, blinking sleepily. I freeze, desperately hoping that she simply turn over and fall back asleep. No such luck. She pulls herself slowly to her feet, turns, and promptly trips over Izzie. I curse softly as she collides with floor, making my head ache horribly, and wonder if alerting them to my true nature would be such a bad thing. At the very least I would be able to keep them from injuring themselves as much as they do now. And really, how much can they remember? But, I am under explicit orders from my master not to reveal my true identity to anyone. Not even two young girls who could be easily dealt with if they proved to be irritating loose ends. Besides, odds are I would just terrify them so soundly that they would never stop crying. I wince as Rebecca begins wailing, and reach down to scoop her up.

"Shush. There there. Please, do be quiet because relatively soon you'll wake up..." My warning comes too late, Izzie sits up straight, takes one startled look up at us, and starts sobbing. I groan as I pick her up as well, holding one girl in each arm.

"You can stop crying now. Your head doesn't hurt anymore Rebecca. Why are you still crying?"

Rebecca stops suddenly, and looks up at me,

"That's bett-"

Her eyes fill with tears and she buries her have into my now-sodden jacket, little shoulders shaking. This only serves to make Izzie cry even harder. To top it all of, this, on top of all the other wailing they've done, is making my throat hurt. Wonderful. I walk around in an attempt to soothe them, silently hoping that they'll eventually run out of oxygen and pass out.

Ten minutes later, they are still crying. My jacket is ruined, Izzie has somehow managed to mess herself while crying, and both of them have sore throats. I have no idea what to do now. Ian? No. Never again. But he did say that I should find someone maternal for them. A nurse perhaps? Or a governess? But how to explain how I can't leave them, emotional attachment would work if I were female, but... I need to go somewhere where this can be explained. Where there is a female to care for them, but no one who would ask awkward questions. Somewhere...oh. I sigh, slightly. Perhaps calling Ian would be better. I deliberate for a second, and then shake my head. I can't avoid it, I suppose. I would have had to go there sooner or later. Besides, I have more clothes there. Clothes that do not smell so...ripe. That alone will be enough to get me to leave within a few days. Sometimes demonic senses can be most unhelpful.

Their sobs have subsided into mere whimpers now, and I sigh gratefully for that. I ease the girls off my shoulders and look at them carefully, ignoring the sensation of my shirt sticking to skin, glued there by the girl's tears,

"We're going to visit a...person who I am well-acquainted with. But you must be quiet. No crying or wailing or carrying on like you have been doing. Do you understand?"

They look at me, lower lips trembling. I take a deep breath, stare into meet each of their eyes, and ask again,

"Do you two understand?"

They both nod. Very well then. I position my hands on the back of their heads and curl my fingers around their faces, covering their eyes. Then I walk down the hallway, to the open window. I leap gently up to the ledge, and take off. I stay close to the rooftops to avoid jouncing them around too much and am forced to refrain from moving at my usual pace. We race over the streets of London as I leap lightly from rooftop to rooftop. We reach the outskirts, the buildings end, then I touch bare earth and run, turning around to run backwards, shielding Izzie and Rebecca from the biting wind. It would not do to have them realize that they are moving faster than a horse can run. It would not do at all. Green countryside whips past, fields and sheep-dotted pastures.

Even at my reduced pace, I arrive rather quickly. I deposit them on the path leading to the front door and remove my hands. They blink several times, adjusting to the light. Then their eyes widen as they take in the imposing silhouette of Phantomhive manor. Rebecca turns to me and opens her mouth, her eyes bright,

"Here?"

I nod at her. She smiles slightly, beside her; Izzie claps her hands and laughs,

"Yay."

I bend down and take their hands, pulling them forward along the path. They trip over their feet as they attempt to take in the slightly diminished gardens. Finny hasn't killed off as many plants as I thought he would have. Thank goodness, less work for me. Then I cringe as my master's formerly prized white roses come into view. Ah, Finny, someday you will wake up missing several major limbs. Well, hopefully he is less sentimental than he was as a human, though I suppose Mistress Elizabeth will be most distressed.

Eventually we reach the door, both girls eye it nervously and I shuffle them quickly behind me. Then I close my eyes for a moment to steady myself, detach my right hand from Izzie's death grip, and knock three times. The sound reverberates through the air, and behind the closed door I hear exclamations of surprise. The door is carefully opened, and I stare down at the diminutive form of Tanaka,

"Mr. Tanaka, would you be so kind as to fetch Lord Phantomhive for me?"

"Ho, ho, ho."

I take that as a yes, and he turns and walks off. Behind me Rebecca wriggles and Izzie squeaks, but is quickly drowned out by another, louder, shriek of delight.

"Mr. Sebastian! Mr. Sebastian!"

I look up and groan silently. Those three. They hurl themselves towards me, but come to a very quick stop when I glare at them. Finny's eyes widen as he takes in my disheveled appearance and he opens his mouth, but them snaps it shut as the sound of footsteps echoes through the room. Ah, good. My Lord Phantomhive descends slowly down the stairs, the Lady Elizabeth at his arm. She looks quite happy to see me. Hmm, I wonder if she's any good with children. Master Ciel wears a mildly cross look. I will have to remind him that though he requested that I leave him to discover his new abilities without my constant interference, he did not order me to stay away. He strides towards me across the room, sending the servants scurrying to the side and halts in the doorway. If he is surprised at my appearance, he does not show it,

"Sebastian?" He asks.

I breathe deeply and look down at him. I believe that I should ask him for this, simply shoving it his face will most likely vex him, and while I would so dearly love to do that on another occasion, I do not need him to order me to dispose of them,

"I require… assistance in a matter in which I have no expertise."

His eyebrows twitch up, and I catch a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth,

"A matter in which you have no expertise, you say? Why, I thought a Phantomhive butler could do everything."

I smile and dip my head towards him,

"True, true, well, almost everything."  
He laughs, smirks, and says,

"Well Sebastian, out with it. What is this great matter that has caused you such distress?"  
He eyes my clothes with distaste, and then looks at me. I simply smile, seize each of the girls by their wrists, and stick my arms out straight so that they are suspended in the air. Then, Ciel Phantomhive, Lord Earl of Phantomhive, contractor, Lord, and Master to me, Sebastian Michaelis, not to mention a demon, makes a very undignified sound and collapses backwards. He lies there, twitching, for a few moments before hauling himself back to his feet, shaking off Lady Elizabeth's attempts to assist him.

"What? What is this?" He gasps, pointing at the girls, who I have lowered back to the ground. Rebecca gives him a cheery wave while Izzie simply smiles. I am about to reply when Lady Elizabeth cuts in,

"Oh aren't they just adorable?"

They look at her oddly for a few moments, and then first Rebecca, followed by Izzie, shuffles herself behind my leg. Lady Elizabeth looks disappointed, but simply turns to me instead of throwing one of those fits she is famous for. Hmm, perhaps she's matured. Ignoring Master Ciel's splutters of rage, she asks,

"Who are they?"  
I smile and reply,

"The brown-haired one is Rebecca and the other one is Izzie."

Elizabeth laughs delightedly and, turning to Master Ciel, says,

"Izzie looks a bit like you."  
He waves it off, looking extremely shell-shocked, his angry eyes telling me that I will have to explain myself in full later. I look down and nod, they do have the same blue-black hair I suppose. And big eyes, though I believe all children have those. Master Ciel is also eying her oddly, but subsequently shakes his head and sighs, pressing his fingers on either side of his nose. Then he looks up and says,

"Sebastian, with me."  
With that he turns and begins to stalk imperiously towards the staircase. I quickly pick the little ones up and walk after him, but Lady Elizabeth and Mey-Rin stop me as I attempt to follow,

"Oh! We can watch them!"

I desperately attempt to come up with an excuse, but simply decide to play the over-protective/emotional caretaker card. Fortunately Izzie and Rebecca both choose this particular moment to wrap their arms around my neck. I smile graciously at the two women and shake my head,

"Many thanks, but I believe they will be happier with me."  
They nod sagely and move out of my way. Another smile and I walk very quickly up the stairs and through the halls to my Master's study. He is already their when I arrive, sitting in that great chair of his, the one that makes him look like a little child trying to play with his father's things. He steeples his fingers, closes his eyes, and growls,

"What the hell is going on here Sebastian?"

**Thanks for reading and reviews are always appreciated! **


	7. Some things are explicable, some are not

**Disclaimer: To make this more interesting, I'm having Izzie do it. **

**Izzie: *blinks***

**Never mind, I do not own Black Butler.**

**Sebastian's POV**

I hesitate, searching for words that will make this situation seem sane. He opens his eyes and looks pointedly at me. I mentally steel myself and open my mouth,

"Well, you see...

He holds up his hand, stopping me. He places both hands on the desk and leans forward,

"They aren't yours, are they? Because the last thing this mansion needs is more demons."

He casts a disapproving look at the two girls nestled into my neck, I glance down, and note that they need to bathe. Of course so do I. And a change of clothes, preferably sans the bodily fluids and solids I have been dealing with these past few days.

"No, my lord. I have no offspring."

He nods, then his eyes widen and he looks up at me furiously,

"You didn't contract them, did you?

I look at him, aghast,

"My lord. I am your faithful servant to the end."

He nods again, still suspicious,

"So... How did you happen to...acquire these two children?"

I shake my head,

"They were dropped on my doorstep a few days ago."

"Dropped?"

I nod slightly,

"I heard a knock, opened the door and they were there."

His eyebrows go up and he nods,

"I assume you've contacted an agency or someone who can adopt them?"

I shake my head; his eyebrows go up even farther,

"There are, obstacles to that course."

"Obstacles?"

I pry Rebecca off me and set her down, followed by a pouting Izzie. They try to latch onto my legs, but I take a step back. Followed by another, and another, and another. Ciel sighs heavily, and I smirk slightly. Another step. Midway I halt, and look at him,

"What?"

I sigh, and try to move my hands behind my back. They jerk forwards, and I wince as they're wrenched across the floor, knees colliding painfully with the rough carpet. I look significantly at him as I cross the room to pull them to their feet. Amazingly, neither of them cries, though Rebecca's eyes dampen. He spreads his hands, inviting explanation,

"My Lord. I am physically bound to them by what appears to be a chain, though I can only see it briefly."

He tilts his head to one side and nods,

"And what does that mean?"

I drop my head,

"It means that I cannot abandon them until it is broken. In fact, I cannot stray more than ten feet from them."

He stiffens and glares at me,

"Will this impact your duties in any way?"

I smile ruefully,

"I can attempt to continue working normally, but to do so at full speed would violate the order that I am to conceal my, err, nature from anyone. Am I to assume that you would like me to suspend this rule?"

He shakes his head irritably,

"No, no. Keep it from them as best you can. I don't want chattering children to possess that knowledge."

I bow slightly,

"My lord."

He waves it off and rubs his temples,

"How, pray tell, did these...chains form?"

"I believe they were put into place by Rebecca's mother."

He gestures for me to continue,

"I am not sure exactly how it occurred, but I believe it had something to do with a strange blue liquid I was forced to ingest, one that the note claimed was blood."

"Note?"

I reach into my pockets and pull out a damp square of folded paper; I carefully unfold it and pass it to him. He lets it flop onto his desk before leaning over it, eyes flickering as he reads the words several times. When he is done, he sits back and steeples his fingers again, contemplating,

"Sebastian. What could do this? And how could it be reversed?" I shake my head,

"I am afraid, my Lord, that I have no answers for you. The girl appears human, but it could be an illusion of some sort. She does not smell any different than a human, and other than a mildly advanced vocabulary, which could be accredited to a dozen things, she is quite ordinary. As for the chains, I can barely see them, I only noticed them when Rebecca pointed them out to me."

He looks up at that, and opens his mouth. Before he can speak anything I say,

"I've already gone down that path. Her eyes are completely normal."

"Have you any idea what she is?"

Doesn't he think that I would have contacted some of her kind already if I did?

"No my Lord. I can rule some things out. She is certainly not Reaper or Demon, nor Angel or practically anything else. The woman made it clear that I was a caretaker of last resort, so it is unlikely that she has relatives, as it does state that the woman was the second to last of her kind.

He considers that for a moment before speaking,

"Could you...dispose of them?"

If only,

"No my Lord. To do so would destroy me. I am cursed to feel what they feel, from hunger to pain to who knows what else."

He sighs slightly, then looks at Izzie,

"And the other one? Have you had any luck finding her relatives, as the note suggests?"

I shake my head again; it is becoming quite a habit,

"No. I did manage to discover that she came over on a boat looking for her cousin after her parents died. She seems to associate that boat with said cousin, but she is two, and most likely confused. Oh, and, I believe that she is from America, judging from her accent."

A deep breath, he rests his head on entwined fingers and looks steadily at me. His eyes widen slightly, and he peers at Izzie intently for a moment before narrowing his eyes and shaking his head. After a few moments, he drops his head into his hands. Suddenly, he sits up straight and whirls to the side. He looks down at something and mutters softly, his hand coming down hard at something on his desk. I wince as my hand throbs slightly. Curses. I dart around to behind his desk. Izzie sits, stunned, on the floor. She twists her head and blinks up at me for a few moments before her faces crumples and she bursts into tears. I sigh and lean down to pick her up,

"There there, little one. It's alright."

I pat her back and presently she stops crying. Lord Phantomhive looks at me incredulously,

"I've done many a time over the past few days."

She starts thrashing and I stumble backwards, I nudge Rebecca with my foot in an attempt to get her to move. Unfortunately, I misjudge the amount of force needed and she falls over, cracking her head against the side of the desk. I cringe, take a deep breath, and lean down to pick her up. Now I have a squirming Izzie, a sobbing Rebecca, and my head aches. Goodness.

"Sebastian."

I groan softly and turn to look at him. He raises his voice to be heard above the cries and says,

"Go. These are my orders. Attempt to minimize the effect they have on your work, but do not reveal your true nature to them. If possible, find Izzie's relatives and Rebecca's... any information you can find on Rebecca."

I smile and bow as best I can with two semi-hysterical children held to my chest. Then I turn and stride over to the door. A swift kick sends it flying open and I walk through, exiting into the brightly lit hallway. After closing softly behind me, I let out an explosive sigh of relief. Well, that could have gone worse.

**Thanks for reading! Please review!**


	8. The cats are gone and the bath's too hot

After a few moments, Izzie and Rebecca's tears subside and they fall quiet. I sigh gratefully and begin walking in the direction of my living quarters. I don't use them for anything other than a storage facility for my clothing, my other belongings and my precious kittens. I freeze as a thought strikes me. My kittens. I bullied, err, asked Finny to fill up their food and water dishes for me, but what if he forgot? Or if he disobeyed me and tried to pick them up and killed them all? Or, horror of horrors, **he told Lord Phantomhive**. That boy has an irrational hatred of the pinnacles of evolution that are felines. I resume walking, increasing my pace until I am all but running. I hear a sound behind me, just around the corner and I curse, Rebecca repeats it softly, but I ignore her, instead breaking out into a full-on sprint. Finally I screech to a halt in front of my door. It is locked, and I groan as I realize I don't have a key. My eyes widen as I hear noises again. Five sets of feet. It's all of them. Finny, Mey-rin, Tanaka, Bard and Lady Elizabeth. I turn back to the door and sigh. Supporting the girls on my forearms, their faces buried in my neck, my hands blocking all sound from their ears, I lean forward and shove the door off its hinges using my elbows. I bolt inside and carefully replace the door, again with my elbows. Turning, I stride over to bed, change my mind, walk into the bathroom, and set them down on the washroom counter,

"Stay here." I tell them.

I turn to walk over to my wardrobe, but stop when I realize that it is more than ten feet away. I sigh and return to them. I pick them up again and walk over to the wardrobe. After carefully setting them down I lean forward and open the door and peer inside. Ten seconds later, Rebecca is frantically trying to keep up with my string of expletives. Empty, except for a small piece of paper. I lean forward, pick it up, and flip it over. I groan as I see the Phantomhive crest. Finnian will pay for this. In blood. Down by my ankles Rebecca finally gives up and goes quiet, I make a mental note to, after I painfully murder Finny, to wash her mouth out with acid. No, wait, can't do that. Soap? I believe that is what humans do to foul-mouthed children. Muttering murder plans to myself, I pick them up again and retrieve a fresh set of clothing. I have never been so delighted with clothing in my life. So clean, so unstained, so... sweet-smelling. I never really appreciated how good a clean shirt can smell before. I quickly grab two more shirts and walk to the bathroom.

I stand in the middle of the small room and evaluate my options. I'm not entirely sure how to bathe them, I could put them in the sink, but that is a bit too small for my purposes, as it can only hold a single child at a time. I walk quickly over to the bathtub and peer inside. To my surprise, both girls remove their faces from my neck and look as well, at the bottom of the metal container I see all of our faces reflected and I shake my head. My Lord Phantomhive's reaction was certainly appropriate, my hair is completely out of order, tangled and filthy, my skin is in much the same condition, and on both there are little specks of food that were spit upon me. Apparently children express their dislike of certain foods by expelling it upon the person who fed it to them. The girls, apparently caring nothing for their appearance, emit identical giggles of delight and begin making faces. After a few moments of this I sigh and carefully shift Izzie over to the crook of the arm that is holding Rebecca and reach out with my newly freed hand turn the tap. I wait until a few inches of steaming water fill the tub, and then turn it off again. Quickly, I put the girls down and remove their makeshift clothing, throwing the filthy wads of fabric into a corner until I can burn them to ashes. With perfume. Strong perfume. First I grab Rebecca under the arms and deposit her into the tub. Immediately my feet and lower legs burn and I wrench her back out again. Cursing I plop her back next to Izzie and lunge for the controls, I add some cold water and then reach for her again. She squirms away and I groan,

"Don't be foolish I've cooled it down."

She whimpers and shakes her head, but I ignore it and grab her. She struggles and opens her mouth,

"No! No!"

I grit my teeth and dump her into the tub, I brace myself slightly, but no pain comes. She splashes around a bit before realizing that there is nothing wrong. She stops and sits, stunned, for a few seconds. I take a this opportunity to turn back to Izzie. At first I am confused, but then I look up and shake my head. Izzie is determinedly waddling towards the door, apparently having decided to cut and run before she had to get into the tub. Unfortunately for her she can't quite get to the door, though it is very entertaining to watch her walk in place against the chains. She has apparently not realized that she has not moved forward for a while. I jerk my arm back and she comes tumbling towards me. I reach forward and pick her up, she too struggles and I resist the urge to knock her unconscious. Can they even smell themselves? I know I can.

Despite her valiant efforts to the contrary, Izzie gets dropped into the tub, where Rebecca has gotten over her mistrust of water and is crawling happily around. I fetch the soap and squirt some onto my hand and reach into the tub. They are quite slippery by this point, and my first attempt ends with Izzie slipping out of my grasp. It would be lovely to be able to actually hold them down, but they bruise so easily. I lean in until my entire upper body is in the tub and try again. Izzie suddenly stops and turns around. Seeing my hand, her eyes widen and she thrashes around. I lunge backwards as water sprays everywhere. The next thing I know is Rebecca's delighted shriek and both girls suddenly start splashing around.

"Gah!" I cry out and duck behind the tub, waiting for them to stop. When they do I tentatively sit back up. They beam up at me and I glare at them. I glance down and sigh at my soaked shirt. Then I turn back to them and say,

"Hold still. You are filthy and must be washed."

Whether it is the tone of my voice or the look I am giving them, they pale and nod. Both go still, sitting quite demurely in the cooling water. I reach in again and massage the soap into their scalps, I wait about a minute and then try to comb my fingers through their hair. Rebecca's hair is hopelessly tangled, and getting a brush through it will be irritating. Izzie's hair, on the other hand, I may need to chop off. Or I will just shave her head, presuming I can get my fingers untangled. Without the dirt in it her hair is a blue-black that is quite similar to my Lord Phantomhive's. Both of them clean up quite nicely actually. After a few good scrubbings the filth peels off their skin and dissolves into the now-brown water, it reminds of the first bath Lord Phantomhive took after contracting me. Quite disgusting. I grab towels and set them on the floor before pulling them out. They sit shivering on the cloth, and I shiver as well. Fantastic, I feel not only their pain and hunger, but also their cold. And I imagine I will experience discomfort if they are overheated as well. Whoever or whatever created these bindings was certainly thorough. I hurriedly dry them off and slip the shirts over their heads. They don't stop shivering, but they do become warmer. I pick them up and walk out of the room. Once outside set them down just beyond the door, reenter the bathroom, and close the door behind me. A sharp pain lances up my right side, not reopening the door my foot darts out and nudges whoever is there away. Rebecca I believe. I clean myself and change into fresh clothing. My old clothing goes into the pile slated for burning. Maybe I could put it into the pastry oven. It wouldn't be too bad, at least not compared to what I like to call pie á la Italian. I was quite surprised when Finnian and Bard ate it and did not realize anything was wrong, but they are quite idiotic. I exit the room and wince as I whack into them. I probably want to put them down farther away from the door next time. A knock on the door surprises me, and then I curse softly as an extremely irritating voice calls out to me,

"Mr. Sebastian! Mr. Sebastian! Can we see the girls!"

I close my eyes and sigh,

"Just a minute."

I hear excited murmuring and groan. It's all of them. I thought that I had lost them. Apparently not. Alright. I pick them both up and walk to the door, I briefly consider throwing myself out of the window, but decide against it. Their wet hair sticks to my new shirt and I sigh, irritated. Rebecca looks up, her expression quizzical, and I shake my head at her. She pouts slightly and thumps her head on my chest, most likely in an attempt to force an explanation from me. All she gets for her troubles is a slightly sore head, which of course means that I get a slightly sore head. Annoying. Another knock, the sound of bodies shifting accompanied by a flurry of voices. They seem to be arguing. Finally, one of them shuffles to stand just in front of the door and Finnian's extremely irritating voice rings out,

"If you don't want to come out we can come in if that's bet-."

He shrieks as the door slams into his face, falling backwards. The others scatter to stand in front of other doors. Except for two of them. Lady Elizabeth, with Mey-rin cowering slightly behind her, plants herself in front of me and clasps her hands up under her chin,

"So cuuuuute! Can I hold them?" She squeals.

Izzie and Rebecca both whimper and tremble slightly. I wince in actual sympathy as Lady Elizabeth sticks her arms out, waiting. After a few moments her smile begins to slip. Hurriedly I thrust Izzie towards her. To my surprise she quickly orients Izzie correctly and holds her close. Izzie appears just as astonished as I am, but she gets over it quickly and buries her face in Lady Elizabeth's thick curls. The Lady smiles blissfully and begins to rock back and forth. Mey-rin watches for a few instants before shuffling forward. She hesitates for a few seconds, and then works up the courage to ask, in a trembling voice,

"May I hold the other one Mr. Sebastian? Please sir?"

I nod and quickly unclasp Rebecca's hands from around my neck. She is none too pleased with this development, and starts to squirm as I pass her to Mey-rin. Mey-rin smiles and balances Rebecca on her hip,

"Why aren't you just the most adorable little thing yes you are!"

I roll my eyes, but Rebecca smiles brightly, all hesitation gone. Mey-rin lowers her to the ground and takes her hand, walking her a few feet over to Lady Elizabeth. I follow surreptitiously behind, making sure to stay within ten feet. After about a minute, the other servants begin to gather around as well. I suddenly remember the crest in the closet, and quickly grab Finnian's arm. I lead him inside the nearest room; a quick glance assures me that I still have some slack left in the chain. Entranced by the girls, the others, save for Bard, do not notice. I shake my head at him and he nods, turning back to Izzie and Rebecca. Hmmm, maybe I could use them as distractions. I store that thought away and softly close the door before turning back to Finnian. His childish face is void of all color, and his slight body visibly trembles in terror. I crack my knuckles, smile slightly, and ask,

"Now. What exactly have you done with my cats?"


	9. Where are my cats?

**I do not own Black Butler**

I did not think he would start crying. Well, I did, but not this much. The boy before me is shaking with sobs, hands flying around wildly as he attempts to explain. Unfortunately, even demons can't discern words that aren't there. Finally I lean forward and press my hand over his lips, glaring at him. The blood drains from his face and he goes quiet.

"No hysterics please."

He nods shakily, and takes a deep breath, tears still streaming down his face. I remove my hand and straighten up. He sniffs and scrubs his eyes with his sleeve,

"Well, a few days after you left Lord Phantomhive asked me if I knew whether or not you had any cats and I told him no but he wouldn't believe me and he just kept looking at me and I panicked and..."

I tune out the rest of his desperate explanations and focus on controlling the white-hot fury that I have not felt in a while bubbling up within me. The fact that Finnigan is still talking does not help. One would think that he'd have to run out of air at some point in time, but no such luck. I sigh, and he falls silent.

"So Lord Phantomhive knows then."

He nods, his eyes filling with tears again. My eye twitches slightly and I ask,

"Do you know what he did with them?"

A tiny, almost imperceptible shake of the head. Another twitch. He smiles shakily and opens his mouth,

"Maybe-"

I interrupt him, speaking quietly.

"You had one job Finnigan. One, all-important, main job. Take care of the cats. Honestly, if you can't even do that, I'm not sure you can be a Phantomhive gardener."

That comment hits home, perhaps a bit too strongly. Finnigan drops to his knees and starts howling like Pluto used to do. After I took away his doggy treats...and burned them (the idiotic canine chased my cat). He starts hugging my legs, getting my nice, new, fresh, clean, **dry, **pants completely soaked. My vision begins to redden dangerously. I try taking deep breaths while prying Finny off of me, but am interrupted by a sharp knock on the door,

"Mr. Sebastian? Finny? Are you alright?"

Bardroy. Of course.

"Yes yes, Finnigan's having a bit of a fit but it will be fine."  
I bring my finger to Finnigan's lips to shush him, and then glare at him sharply. To my surprise, (and no little delight), his eyes roll into the back of his head and he faints. I leave him prone on the floor and exit the room carefully. Lady Elizabeth and Mey-rin are much too entranced by the girls to have noticed anything, but Bardroy gives me a look before entering the room I just vacated. I allow a small smile to cross my lips as I hear his explosive comments,

"Ah Finny! What have you done? Do you know what Lord Phantomhive will say when he sees this carpet? Do you know what Lady Phantomhive will do to you?"

There is a moment of silence after this, then Bardroy curses softly and mutters,

"No, no, don't pass out again. Come on boy, up you go."

Bardroy, supporting the staggering, teary-eyed Finnigan, hurries out of the room and down the hall away from the rest of us. I give him a small smile as he passes by and he nods slightly in acknowledgment. I wait until they are out of sight before turning to the others, noting with amazement that despite the commotion of the past few minutes, they act as if nothing has happened. Ah the selective senses of humankind. Or perhaps they simply did not want to get involved. No, I am quite sure it was the first one.

Finally, Mey-Rin, or rather Rebecca, notices that I have re-entered the hallway. She thumps her fists on Mey-Rin's back and the maid turns around suddenly, tripping on her skirts in the process. I reach forward and steady her gently, while at the same time extracting Rebecca from her arms. In truth, I would much rather leave the girl with her for as long as possible, but as it is I feel I have been tempting fate by leaving so fragile a creature in Mey-Rin's off times unreliable arms.

Of course, no sooner does she return to my arms than that irritating sensation makes itself known again. I stay silent and count. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5,

"Hungwy!"

Right on time. Izzie begins whining, upsetting Rebecca. Why are they hungry this time? Didn't the- oh goodness. I mentally slap myself as I remember. They were not fed this morning, as I was too busy trying to clean them and comfort them and get them out of my ruined flat. My eye begins to twitch a little and Rebecca begins squirming in my arms. I twist awkwardly and eventually manage to pin all of her limbs down, to her great irritation. Lady Elizabeth positions Izzie so that her head is over her shoulder and rubs her back comfortingly.  
"There there. What what."

After a few minutes Izzie quiets down, just in time for Rebecca to let out and ear-piercing shriek and try to escape again. After watching her ineffectual struggles and my attempts to contain them for a few seconds, Mey-Rin clucks her tongue and reaches out her arms. Rebecca immediately turns away from me and stretches out her arms in return. Bewildered, I pass Rebecca to Mey-Rin, and watch as she manages to get Rebecca under control. Lady Elizabeth clears her throat and gives me a significant look. I recall myself and bow slightly. I pitch my voice to sound appropriately remorseful and say,

"I apologize my Lady, they did not eat this morning."  
Mey-Rin and Lady Elizabeth look at me incredulously and share a look, shaking their heads slightly. Lady Elizabeth sighs heavily then gives Izzie a small smile,

"Well we'll have to fix that won't we?"

With that she turns on her heel to leave. To my horror, Mey-Rin walks to the side of the hall and Izzie jerks away from Lady Elizabeth. The Lady stumbles slightly then regains her feet. I hold my unneeded breath for a minute, wondering if I will need to alter her mind. Fortunately, I am not forced to as identical grins break out across Mey-Rin and Lady Elizabeth's faces.

"How cute! They want to be together!"

Izzie looks about as confused as I feel as she and Rebecca are both bundled into Mey-Rin's arms, Lady Elizabeth electing to lead our party. We traipse down the hall and two flights of stairs, Izzie and Rebecca seeming remarkably content with Mey-Rin. I seethe inwardly, recalling all of the time I have spent trying to make them stop squirming. Or shrieking. Or crying. Or cursing. Or all four. I did not believe that humans had such lung capacity, but apparently I was wrong.

Eventually we reach the kitchen doors, where Lady Elizabeth knocks politely, then steps back to wait. Nothing happens. A puzzled look crosses her face, and Mey-Rin pipes up,

"Maybe Bard is overseeing a shipment?"

I shake my head; I can hear soft sobbing coming from behind the door, and hushed words. I step forward, bowing to Lady Elizabeth, who quickly moves out of the way. It would most satisfying to kick down the door and watch the looks on all of their faces, but I believe Lord Phantomhive would be most displeased. Instead I call out,

"Bardroy! Open this door this instant."

A few seconds pass, then the door creaks open. He sticks his out, almost colliding with my chest, and hisses,

"Not a good time."

I take a step back, revealing our party. Izzie sniffs the air slightly, and smiles widely,

"Hungwy."

I turn back to him, but am forced to jump to the side as Lady Elizabeth shoulders roughly past, followed by an equally determined Mey-Rin. I quickly enter behind them and begin looking around. My eyes alight upon a few items and I move to pick them, only to have to hop back quickly as I feel pressure on my wrists. Turning around, I see Lady Elizabeth holding both girls as Mey-Rin bustles around, grabbing various foodstuffs off shelves and placing them near the stove. A bit behind, Finny sits slumped over in a chair, Bard kneeling with his hand on the chairback beside him, trying to get him to, I believe it is, get up, be a man, and, what? TELL SEBASTIAN THAT LORD PHANTOMHIVE GAVE HIS CATS AWAY! I seethe inwardly, but desperately force myself back into a semblance of calm as I see Rebecca watching me inquisitively. Of course, giving the glassiness of her eyes, she could also have fallen asleep with her eyes open. That is a bit disturbing, I wave at her slowly and she blinks, perking up and bit and waving back at me. Finny also chooses to lift his head up at this moment at this moment, and takes the wave as for him. His eyes travel upwards to meet mine, and I let my eyes go hard and cold as I give him a sharp smile that melts into a real one as his eyes into the back of his head and his body slumps over onto a surprised Bardroy.

Turning away, I notice that Mey-Rin has assembled all of her ingredients. As she begins cook, I note that she is keeping the chicken whole. I inquire after that, she gives me an odd look.

"Izzie won't eat anything whole."  
At this, Mey-Rin looks surprised, but then she and Lady Elizabeth exchange a look that says, in no uncertain terms, that they think I may be the most incompetent caretaker on the face of this earth and it is a miracle that the girls were not killed by my idiocy. Mey-Rin turns back to me and, speaking slowly, like one would to a particularly dumb child, says,

"This is for Rebecca. If we cut it up she'll eat it. This," she says while gesturing to a bowl full of various mashed up fruits,

"Is for Izzie."

I nod in return,

"But if you mince it..."  
She nods,

"If you mince it, then yes Izzie can eat it. That doesn't mean you have to feed it to her. Fruit mush goes down easier, and it is very good for babies yes it is."

She shakes her head indulgently, chuckling. I take a deep breath and mentally go through all of the reasons I can't kill/drag to hell/severely maim them. One, Lord Phantomhive ordered me not to harm any in his household unless they became a direct threat. Two, Lord Phantomhive ordered me not to reveal myself unless his life or the life of someone he had told me to protect was in danger. Three, Lord Phantomhive would probably chop off my left hand (not my right one, the one with the contract seal. He is not that merciful) Four... Lord Phantomhive. I sigh deeply, and rub my temples.

"Done!"

I look up as Mey-Rin spoons the fruit mush into a bowl and places in front of one of the kitchen chairs. Returning to the stove, she chops the chicken into small pieces and places it on the plate, along with a small pile of greens. While she is doing this, Lady Elizabeth goes and sets Rebecca onto a large book set on a chair. Rebecca beams over the table and looks excitedly at Izzie, who sits on Lady Elizabeth's lap. Mey-Rin gives Rebecca her food, along with a small glass of milk. I walk over carefully and watch as Rebecca lunges forward and begins picking the food off her plate and stuffing it into her mouth. I wince at her poor table manners. I wonder at which age children can start taking proper lessons? My mind balks at the thought of teaching these creatures to dance, and sing, and learn french, and...Lord Phantomhive was bad enough! And I can't rap their knuckles!

Returning my attention to the table, I watch as Lady Elizabeth spoons the fruit mush into Izzie's mouth; the Lady wears a blissful expression on her face. Mey-Rin carefully supervises Rebecca, picking up what food she drops and placing it onto a dish she has apparently gotten just for this purpose. I feel a sudden flash of irritation; they were never this well behaved for me. At this point in time, Izzie should have thrown her food at someone at least twice, and Rebecca should have stopped eating because of some imagined problem with her food and refused to eat unless it was fixed! I turn my head away, muttering darkly to myself, when something comes flying towards me. I raise my hand, cursing the need to remain at human speed, and wince as something soft and wet splatters onto it. Turning my hand around I see...fruit mush. Lowering my hand reveals Lady Elizabeth's horrified face, and Izzie's impishly happy one. I give a stiff nod and carefully wipe my hands on the napkin that Mey-Rin so helpfully placed on the table. My eye starts twitching again, as I smile and bow slightly, hiding my lengthening canines and reddening eyes. Getting myself back under control, I straighten up and glare at Izzie. Instead of paling and whimpering as any normal person would, she smiles at me and claps her hands, letting out a delighted giggle.

**Thank you for reading!**


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